


Favors and Allegations

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Hannibal is smitten, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Post-Episode: s02e07 Yakimono, Season 2, Teasing, Will is a bit bossy, sexy talk, will is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 05:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11525766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: Will knows Hannibal wants to understand more about his mind. How might he convince someone to kill for him? Hannibal says Matthew Brown gave him a clue.





	Favors and Allegations

“Where shall we begin?”

Will considered the possibilities, mulling them over like sips of wine. In truth, he hadn’t thought much of the particulars beyond showing up on Hannibal’s doorstep in pressed clothes and a new haircut. He’d wanted to look calm, ready. For what, he wasn’t entirely sure.

He sighed to buy himself another moment or two of thinking.

“Where…” He spoke slowly, as if deliberately. “Where would _you_ like to begin, Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal gave him a small smile. “How are you enjoying your freedom thus far?”

“I enjoy having my dogs back,’ Will said. "I look forward to getting up and later going to bed at times of my own choosing.”

“Do you worry about the future?”

“Do I have reason to worry?” Will asked.

“Matthew Brown has been in a coma since Jack Crawford shot him,” Hannibal said. “If he wakes up and says you hired him to kill me, your freedom would be short-lived. Right now, the authorities have no solid proof.”

Will laughed a bit more harshly than he’d intended. “Hired him with what? Terrible coffee and industrial oatmeal?”

Hannibal’s smile faltered slightly as he obviously tried to steel his expression against… _something_.

“ _Now_ I’m curious,” Will said. “What did he tell you?”

Now it was Hannibal’s turn to stall for time, languidly crossing and uncrossing one leg over the other.

“ _What_ ,” Will pushed.

“He said you made him promises,” Hannibal said.

Will laughed again. “Made him promises? That sounds like something from a Regency romance.”

“You were in a relationship with him,” Hannibal said, his words clipped more than usual. “Or so he said. He seemed to think you had a future together, based on…certain conversations. Certain… _favors_.”

Will made a thoughtful sound. “A favor like asking him to kill you? Allegedly?”

“Would you like me to quote his exact words?” Hannibal asked.

“Please,” Will said with an encouraging wave of his hand.

“When he was binding me—putting the noose around my neck, to be precise,” Hannibal began, “he whispered in my ear that he had sucked your cock.”

Will forced himself to show no reaction to that other than to quietly ask, “Did he, now?”

“Sometimes through the bars of your cell, sometimes after he’d let himself in with his key.”

Hannibal’s voice was utterly calm, but his fingers were laced so tightly over his knee that the knuckles paled like rawhide drying in the sun.

“How did that make you feel?” Will asked, savoring the turnabout.

“I was primarily focused on the noose around my neck,” Hannibal said. “But I admit I was somewhat surprised. It hadn’t occurred to me that something of that nature would interest you.”

“A blowjob, or a blowjob from a man?” Will asked. “I wouldn’t necessarily have to be interested in him if I were just trying to gain his affections. Allegedly.”

“Allegedly,” Hannibal agreed.

“I wonder why you’re telling me all this,” Will said.

“ _You_ asked if you had reason to worry,” Hannibal reminded him.

“ _You_ steered our conversation in that direction,” Will reminded him right back.

Hannibal said nothing, but got up to pour them both glasses of wine. Will studied his back, his posture, even the movement of his hands as he uncorked the wine. There was a tenseness in his shoulders, near the nape of his neck, that wouldn’t have been visible if he’d been wearing one of his stiff, expertly tailored suits. He said he’d been expecting Will.

_He wants me to see that it bothers him._

The realization made Will hum with pleasure just under his breath until the next thought came to him.

_Or maybe he wants me to think it bothers him, for whatever reason. He may want to see how I react to his agitation._

“You want me to confirm or deny it,” Will said, because it would be close enough to the truth regardless of the reasons. "Not in so many words, perhaps. But you’re curious how I would go about getting someone to murder for me, turn them to my way of thinking.“

Hannibal gave him an indulgent smile as he crossed the room, two glasses held in one hand.

"It’s no secret, Will, I’ve always been intrigued by your thoughts,” Hannibal said. “Or perhaps I’m simply curious about your tastes.”

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” Will said, taking one of the glasses. He glanced up to meet Hannibal’s eyes. “Or maybe I’ll just show you." The words were out before he could weigh whether or not he should say them.

Hannibal, who’d been about to turn towards his own chair again, suddenly drew up short. Wine sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the glass.

Will clamped down on the little spark of triumph he felt in that instant, reminding himself that this— _all of this_ —could be an elaborate ruse on Hannibal’s part.

"If that’s to _your_ taste, of course.”

Hannibal inclined his head in a small, yet somehow regal gesture. “I shall continue to keep your standing appointment standing.”

“Unless Matthew Brown should happen to wake up and talk to Jack Crawford,” Will said.

They smiled and drank their wine in companionable silence.

* * *

Will returned to Hannibal's office well ahead of his next appointment.

"I just got an interesting phone call from Jack Crawford," he said as soon as Hannibal opened the door, not bothering with any greeting.

"Jack called me, as well," Hannibal said.

He gestured toward the chairs, but Will ignored them in favor of sitting on the edge of Hannibal's desk.

"I wonder," he said, "if he called us about the same thing?"

Of course he had, but Will wanted to see the expression on Hannibal's face, wanted to see the shifting smile on his face, the glint of innocence that he knew wouldn't fool Will.

"Matthew Brown died sometime before dawn," Hannibal said.

"His doctors had documented an improvement in his condition right before," Will said. "Odd how things can suddenly take a turn for the worse."

Hannibal sat beside him. "Or for the better. Abel Gideon has vanished. Matthew Brown is dead. Anyone who could have attested to your trying to have me killed is suddenly...out of the picture." He moved his leg just enough that their thighs touched.

"That's quite convenient," Will said.

The smile he got was as happy a one he'd ever seen. "Isn't it, though?"

"Get in your chair," Will told him.

Hannibal blinked. "Pardon me?"

"I said get in your chair," Will told him again.

Hannibal tilted his head, curious, but got up and did as he'd been instructed.

Will followed him, and got back up on the desk so that he was sitting directly in front of Hannibal, legs spread, feet on either side of Hannibal's knees.

Every bit of this could still be part of Hannibal's game, Will told himself, testing him, prodding him to see how his mind worked, but just at that moment, he couldn't quite bring himself to care. He unzipped the fly of his pants.

Hannibal went instantly glassy-eyed and licked his lips. " _Will_."

"I said I could show you," Will reminded him. "Do you want to see?

Mute, Hannibal only nodded.

Will had been half hard since he got off the phone with Jack, realizing what Hannibal had done---what Hannibal had done for _him_. Now, as he fished out his cock, he was so aroused just touching himself that little bit was almost enough to make him come.

"Lean forward. Open your mouth just a little. Don't do anything more than that."

Will traced the outline of Hannibal's lips with the head of his cock, leaving behind a glossy wet sheen everywhere he touched. Hannibal breathed slowly, deeply, and his eyes fluttered as if he'd scented the headiest wine.

"Open wider," Will told him.

Hannibal didn't hesitate to do just that.

When Will pushed inside, he thought he'd never felt anything more gorgeous than that, nothing more... _luxurious_ , somehow. It was as if that mouth had been made for him, made to do _this_ , like a bespoke suit he didn't even know existed until now, but fit him perfectly.

As Hannibal bobbed his head back and forth, he made his tongue into a rigid point that stroked the underside of Will's cock. Gorgeous, beautiful, perfectly made. The wettest thing he'd ever felt, and hotter than any fever. When he came, it was down Hannibal's throat, and so hard it almost hurt.

Hannibal cleaned every inch of him without being told or asked, licking first and then blotting away traces of his own spit with a tissue.

For several moments, Hannibal was quiet before asking, "Is that how you allegedly persuaded Matthew Brown?"

Will tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. "What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think," Hannibal admitted.

Will thumbed the corner of Hannibal's mouth that was still wet, then leaned down to press a kiss to it.

" _Good_."


End file.
